


everything that kills me (makes me feel alive.)

by serenitysea



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, darkfic to the extreme, i just want to make that clear going in, pretty much everybody dies, skye makes a deal with the devil and she never should have, skye's monster father makes more than the usual appearence, the road to hell is paved with good intentions, ward chooses skye above all else, warnings are there for a reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 07:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2183337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysea/pseuds/serenitysea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>skye makes a deal and everything goes straight to hell. (no. it really does.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	everything that kills me (makes me feel alive.)

**Author's Note:**

> so i'm SUPPOSED to be writing GOOD FIC and yet... somehow _this_ happened. i'm just going to warn you right now: it is going to HURT. i am so, so sorry.
> 
> title comes from _counting stars_ by onerepublic.

Raina approaches her in broad daylight and takes her down, with just a single hand cupping her cheek.  
  
And everything goes black.  
  
* * *  
  
Skye wakes up with her arms and legs bound securely to a chair and has a split second to think, _well, this seems terrible_.  
  
The room is damp and smells faintly of mold and something stronger; the copper metallic that cannot be mistaken for anything other than blood.  
  
She turns her head and _agony_ floods through her veins. Raina is watching with clinical interest. "You came back to us."  
  
It takes her a couple tries to get her mouth to cooperate. "Where the hell am I?"  
  
"Does it matter?" Raina seems almost entertained by her demand. "You have to know after what we've done… we're never letting you go."  
  
Skye has to fight the bile rising in her throat. "I hate you."  
  
"Oh, Skye." Her voice is condescending and more than a touch amused, "It isn't me you should be hating."  
  
Before she can process that statement, there is a bloody figure standing in front of her. "Hello, daughter. Welcome home." It raises two dripping hands to the side of her head and Skye passes out from the pain.  
  
* * *  
  
Weeks pass.  
  
She feels like she is half in and half out of her body. The thing that calls her _daughter_ is relentless and a master at inflicting pain and will not answer any of her questions. Raina comes in after each session and cleans her up the best she can and Skye doesn't know whether to laugh or cry at the entire situation.  
  
She thinks her jaw will just about _shatter_ from the agony. "What is the _point_ of this?"  
  
"You wanted to save your precious Director and his band of misfits. Everything has a price, daughter."  
  
In that moment, Skye wishes she had never been born.  
  
"No. This is what you were _born_ for."  
  
Searing blackness explodes at the corners of her vision and she grits her teeth to hang on to the edges of consciousness. This time she will not break.  
  
" _Very_ good. Now you are ready to begin."  
  
* * *  
  
They destroy China first.  
  
It seems like the most logical place to start; after all, it was where she'd been ripped from her parents' arms. (Her parents _are_ the monsters.)  
  
They move east, through India, Iran, Iraq; decimating Saudi Arabia and finishing strong in Egypt.  
  
Shield intercepts them when they are in the process of flat out conquering the continent of Africa.

* * *

  
Skye has sand in places she doesn't care to think about and a pounding headache that throbs with every step she takes. There is blood dripping from somewhere near her temple and she knows the double vision is most likely courtesy of a concussion.  
  
When she rounds the corner, May is standing there with a gun pointed at her heart.  
  
"Skye, _don't_ do this."  
  
She laughs without a trace of mirth. "As if I have a choice." Skye gestures widely and the gun flies out of May's hands. The Specialist doesn't hesitate, comes charging forward with the clear intent of taking her down.  
  
Skye closes her eyes because she can't bear to watch. When she opens them: May is dead at her feet, blackness curling from her fingertips and moving steadily upwards.  
  
By the time she begins walking away, more than half of May's body is covered.  
  
When she gets on the plane and they take off to finish their conquest, May's body has turned to ash.  
  
The team will probably never find her.  
  
* * *  
  
They send Trip next.  
  
Skye rolls her eyes (because it easier to pretend like it doesn't matter, because there is no other way to get through this) and sighs loudly. "Don't you have a legacy to live up to?"  
  
"Not much of a legacy if I don't stand for what I believe in," Trip counters smoothly, engaging her in hand to hand combat but carefully staying clear of her skin.  
  
(They've learned.)  
  
Time is running out and Skye is getting tired. Her mouth twists sadly, "You should have listened to your mother. You _were_ destined for great things."  
  
For a second it looks like he is going to be safe, that he is in the clear — and then she dropkicks him unexpectedly to the ground and lays her hand on his throat. She doesn't squeeze or apply pressure. She doesn't have to. The blackness eats away at him until there is nothing left.  
  
* * *  
  
They don't send FitzSimmons (and there is a part of her, from _before_ ) that is grateful for that. She later discovers they went down in a plane crash over the Atlantic.  
  
She doesn't try to find out what happened to the plane, or if there were complications that brought about the crash.  
  
She doesn't want to know.  
  
* * *  
  
The mistake comes when Coulson shows up.  
  
Her eyes go wide with horror and she backs away from him. "Get out of here right now."  
  
"Skye, I need you to tell me what happened."  
  
"You _need_ to get _away_ from me." The pain comes fast and overpowering and she is down on her knees instantly. She can feel the heat starting at her lower spine and working its way up.  
  
"Where is our team?"  
  
Even as she collapses to the ground, she manages to swing her gaze up to meet his. "You don't know?"  
  
"I'm trying to understand." Coulson draws closer to her with each step and she is paralyzed from the waist down.  
  
It takes everything she has to lift her head. "I was trying to save you."  
  
He frowns. "I don't need saving."  
  
"You..." There is darkness creeping along the edge of her vision and her jaw is going loose with a lack of muscle control. "...will."  
  
The last thing she sees is Coulson's expression of frozen horror. She is already unconscious by the time strong arms lift her up and away.  
  
* * *  
  
When she wakes up this time, there are no restraints. There is a blanket covering her and cool air blowing into the small room. A sandwich is her only company, which she eats promptly and ignores the taste of sawdust it leaves behind.  
  
There are no noticeable cameras or exits.  
  
She falls back asleep because there is literally nothing else to do.  
  
* * *  
  
The next time, Ward is sitting in front of her.  
  
She stares at him and he stares back. Time passes.  
  
Finally she cannot stand it anymore. "Where are we?"  
  
A faint gleam of satisfaction (that she cannot figure out) enters his eyes. "The States. Europe fell last week to Raina and her team."  
  
"You mean my father's team."  
  
Ward nods. "The Eastern hemisphere is completely lost to us."  
  
Skye closes her eyes and breathes through the panic clawing at her throat. "Just drop me in the ocean somewhere. Don't look back."  
  
"It should be killing Coulson. What you're doing. Instead somehow it's keeping him alive."  
  
"Ward, just stop."  
  
"I want to know how you're doing this."  
  
"No."  
  
"Because the thing is… it's actually killing you."  
  
"Drop it."  
  
He glares at her and oh, it _burns_. "What the hell kind of bargain with the devil did you make?"  
  
Her eyes go wide with panic as she realizes, for the first time, that the always-present crushing pressure around her heart is gone. "What have you done?"  
  
"Answer the question." It's been a while since she has seen Ward in full on Specialist mode; she hasn't been on the receiving side of his anger and displeasure for the better part of year and it is almost frightening to see the just-barely controlled fury and tension in his body.  
  
" _What did you do_?" She snarls, lunging to her feet and _just_ stopping herself from reaching for his throat. The darkness will engulf him until there is nothing left and it bubbles at the ready, just begging to be let loose.  
  
"I saved your life."  
  
And Skye _roars_ with grief, dropping to ground in a heap of limbs and broken promises.  
  
* * *  
  
Coulson dies surrounded by a slew of alien technology and a room with symbols carved into the surface of all four walls.  
  
* * *  
  
The next morning the blackness has started to fade from her heart. It takes another three weeks before her torso glows pink with healthy skin. The legs and arms are the last to go, and it is only afterwards that Skye allows herself to cry; bone-crushing grief-filled tears that sink her under at night and keep her submerged during the day.  
  
* * *  
  
Ward flies the Bus and they slowly acquire a team.  
  
Other than him, they all have a healthy fear of her and keep a wide berth when she is moving throughout the main cabin. (Skye looks at the couches in the lounge and thinks it's ~~safer~~ better that way.)  
  
(She never goes into Coulson's office. She never enters the lab. She would avoid the Bus altogether except it's obviously a part of her penance that she cannot run from.)  
  
She can't run anymore.  
  
* * *  
  
The Eastern hemisphere is never recovered.  
  
The Western hemisphere does not fall.  
  
* * *  
  
Skye searches for the blackness under her fingernails every day.  
  
Ward keeps watch over her at night.  
  
It is enough.  
  
* * *  
  
(It will _never_ be enough.)

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SO SORRY.
> 
> you can find me at b-isforbombshell on tumblr if you need to vent. i understand.


End file.
